


Little Note of Love

by phanmindpalace



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanmindpalace/pseuds/phanmindpalace
Summary: A high school AU in which Phil self harms due to bullying and the absence of his parents. Dan is depressed. He befriends Phil after moving to his school and begins to fall in love with him. Little does Phil know, but Dan will change his life and make it worth living again. Angst, fluff and smut in later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote 4 years ago and posted on another platform. I since reworked it and am in the process of completing it. My tumblr is the same name, and probably updates more often.

It was the Monday morning following the 6 week holidays, which in England, was the highly anticipated summer break for students all over the country. Phil sat down in his seat at the back, right in the corner. The seat to his right remained empty as always; nobody wanted to sit next to the gay freak with the emo hair. Hell – they didn’t even want to talk to him at all if they could avoid it. All the other students were chatting to each other about how their break had been, and commenting on new hairstyles and piercings. Phil ran his fingers over the new piercing in his tragus, silently wishing he could be part of their whispered conversations. Ever the optimist, he tried to console himself by reminding himself he’d rather they said nothing at all as opposed to their usual taunting. They’d left him alone so far. True, it had only been half an hour since he’d arrived, but that had to be a record.  
As their teacher entered the room, she was followed by a tall boy with straight emo hair, and dark brown eyes that held a certain confidence about them. Phil hadn’t seen the boy before, and was intrigued. Trying not to stare, Phil took out his yearly planner and began to copy out his new timetable that was already written on the whiteboard.   
Mrs Millen sat down at her desk at the front of the class and began to speak. Immediately, the class became silent. Everyone respected Mrs Millen; she was one of the cool teachers that let them watch movies instead of reading the books, and encouraged snow days in the Winter. She respected her students, and always made an effort to treat them as equals; a rare quality among teachers.   
“Good morning Year 11,” she said, clearing her throat. “This is Daniel Howell. He’s new to the area so he doesn’t know anyone yet. Where’s a free seat…” Mrs Millen looked around the room and spotted the empty chair next to Phil. She noted Phil’s sigh, and knew that Phil was praying she wouldn’t sit Dan next to him. Maybe it would do the boy good to have some company though, she thought. Phil always kept to himself, which she really did understand considering the alternative was endless mocking from a bunch of aggressive teenage boys… thinking of the brief background history she had been given about Dan, she considered that perhaps he and Dan would become good friends… With this thought, she pointed next to Phil. A group of boys on the table adjacent to Phil began to snigger into their hands, sharing knowing glances.   
“Something to share?” Mrs Millen asked them, eyebrows raised.  
“No, Miss.” 

Dan wandered over and sat next to Phil, who had moved his bag from that side of the floor. Dan nodded at him and said hello, though was disappointed to see that Phil neither acknowledged nor replied to his greeting.  
Mrs Millen told the class she was going to retrieve some paperwork from the teacher next door, and asked them to remain quiet whilst she did so. Leaving the room, she pulled the door to.  
“Wouldn’t get too close…” a blonde haired boy told Dan from the infamous sniggering table.  
Dan looked at him puzzled. “What do you mean?” He noticed that Phil had stopped what he was doing and looked at his feet as though ashamed.  
“To Phil…he’ll start hitting on you…” The boy and his group erupted into laughter. Dan frowned and looked towards Phil, who by this point, was fiddling so hard with the cuff of his jumper, a hole was beginning to appear.  
“Why would he do that?” Dan asked, annoyance in his voice. Phil’s heart skipped a beat; the air of irritation Dan spoke with was confirming his suspicions that the new boy was no different to the rest. As soon as he found out he was gay, he’d probably ask to move seats, Phil thought. Dan wasn’t annoyed at Phil, though…far from it.

At that moment, Mrs Millen returned. The group of boys became silent, and as the class started to talk again as they filled out the forms, Dan couldn’t shake those words from his head. Despite his many attempts to initiate conversation with Phil, silence hung between them awkwardly. Mrs Millen watched hopefully from the corner of her eye. Dan felt something hit the back of his head, and turning around, he realised the same boy had thrown a small ball of paper at him, trying to attract his attention. Dan vowed he wouldn’t get angry. He wouldn’t shout, he wouldn’t swear and he wouldn’t retaliate at all. He faced the front of the room again and continued to write. He kept knocking Phil’s elbow since he was writing with his left hand, and he kept apologising, though he doubted Phil even cared. The boy looked too…distant.  
“I’m Daryl,“ the boy nearby him pressed on. "These two are Tony and Jake. We can show you around if you want? You seem decent enough.”  
Dan continued to ignore him, but Daryl just didn’t seem to take the hint.  
“You don’t want to be talking to the likes of him.“  
Dan was beginning to grow impatient. "Hey Phil…do you know what this question means?” he asked, pointing to “What do you hope to achieve by the end of this year?” Phil looked at Dan and shrugged.  
“You must know…you’ve filled yours in." Dan tried to catch a glimpse of Phil’s answer, but it was firmly covered by his arm.  
Phil didn’t even look up this time. The way Phil was acting made Dan feel sad. He’d been forced out of his old school by bullies, and he knew how it felt. Something told him that Phil wasn’t a bad person. His instinct was that Phil was a good person who was damaged by bullies too.  
"Phil,” Dan whispered, turning slightly to face his classmate. "I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry. I’m not like them. I’m not one of them.“  
Phil’s pen stopped writing. He turned to Dan and Dan swore he saw a slight smile. "Thanks.”  
“Hey…Daniel…” It was Daryl again. “I wouldn’t talk to him…he’ll start flirting with you.”  
“Daryl, I don’t know what your problem is. Seriously, enough with the gay bashing already.”   
”Only a gayboy would say that,” Daryl laughed quietly, “Are you a homo as well?”  
Unable to contain his anger, Dan scrawled a quick note to Phil and passed it to him with a reassuring smile. He then turned back to Daryl, his demeanor becoming obviously more agitated. He felt anger coursing through his veins, and before he could stop himself, his anger erupted from his mouth. “Why do you want to know?!” Dan growled. “For your information, I am gay, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up because I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last fuckable being on the planet.” Dan continued despite the stares and he could faintly hear Mrs Millen telling him to sit back down. "Just shut the fuck up and stop projecting your daddy problems onto innocent people who honestly, have a lot more potential in life than a fuckwit like you.” He suddenly became all to aware of his teacher’s disappointment, and rolled his eyes, ready to take any punishment thrown his way. Mrs Millen couldn’t deny she felt a surge of pride that someone had finally stood up to Daryl, but she knew she couldn’t appear biased and had to punish Dan just as she would anyone else.  
”Daniel Howell, that is wholly unacceptable!” she raised her voice, beginning to fill in a form in front of her. “Go to the exclusion room and hand this to the supervising teacher,” she sighed, handing him a slip that explained why he’d been kicked out of class. Dan didn’t care; he walked towards the door with a sense of achievement, and flashed Phil a smile before turning on his heels and heading for the exclusion room. If this room was anything like the one at his old school, Dan knew that it was more of a reward than anything else; a solid hour of doing nothing but mindlessly flicking through a book, waiting for the bell to sound and his punishment to end. 

At break, Phil remembered that Dan had slid him a note, and wondering if it had gotten mixed up in his diary, he opened it and flicked through the pages. There it was, in messy handwriting; Want to get an ice-cream later? I’m free after school.  
Phil smiled, then pinched himself. Did this mean Dan wanted to be his friend?


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey!” Dan shouted, waving his arms wildly above his head as he spotted Phil. Phil was leaning with his back against the school gates, his head ducked down, avoiding eye contact with the throng of students passing him. He didn’t look up, though Dan was fairly certain he must have heard him. “Phil!” Phil looked up, admitting defeat and gave Dan a weak smile as Dan began to jog towards him.

There was a group of around 10 students pointing towards the pair, sniggering and shouting homophobic comments, mostly directed at Phil. “How do you deal with that?” Dan asked, his eyebrows raised questioningly. “Do they ever stop?” Phil smiled sorrowfully and shook his head; he’d honestly grown so used to the constant torrent of abuse that he barely heard it anymore, but the last thing he wanted was to involve Dan. As much as Phil longed for a friend; someone to play Zelda with, and talk about boys and Sarah Michelle-Geller and anime with, he didn’t want to be the reason someone was being bullied. He didn’t want anybody suffering collateral damage because of his sexuality.   
Ignoring the group, the two boys began to walk in the opposite direction to the crowd.  
”Heads up!” Dan elbowed Phil in the ribs gently but firmly to warn him of a crumpled ball of homework flying towards their heads. Unfortunately, Phil didn’t quite catch his warning soon enough, and was hit on the side of the face. The paper ball fell to the floor and Phil frowned, picking it up to deposit into a bin. A nearby gathering of teenagers erupted into laughter, and Dan sighed. Phil shrank further into himself and looked at Dan apologetically. “Hey, just ignore them,” Dan said quietly, “You’re not on your own anymore; it’s going to be Dan and Phil VS the world!” Dan bit his lip and punched the air with furrowed, determined brows. “You’ll see.”  
Phil laughed at that, and pointed towards a side-street with several alleys leading off of it. “This way,” he whispered, tugging on Dan’s blazer. From what Phil could see, there wasn’t any sign of students along this route, which was probably because they all walked incredibly slowly whilst gossiping and messing around. “I know somewhere good,” Phil told Dan. “Mum used to take me there all the time.” Dan nodded, drinking in any information Phil had to offer about himself. He’d barely heard his voice all day. Throughout the day, Dan had searched for Phil in the halls, and then again at Lunch, but because Dan had been separated from the rest of his class for the day, he didn’t have a chance to talk to Phil other than for 2 minutes before the end of Lunch bell when he’d finally caught up with him. He wanted to learn more about the mysterious, quiet boy and vowed he’d make every effort to show him he was on his side.   
”Used to?” Dan repeated.  
”Yeah. Not so much anymore,” Phil replied quietly. Dan didn’t push it any further, and instead directed the conversation towards his own family life, hoping it would encourage Phil to tell him more about his own.  
”We just moved here,” he said, “…obviously, because you know, you’ve never seen me around. I was having some problems at school…Dad said a new start would be for the best, but to be honest, you can’t escape the fuckwits. They’re everywhere.”  
Phil nodded knowingly, “Yup.”  
“By the park,” Phil suddenly exclaimed, pointing towards a small ice-cream cafe. Dan noted that his voice was soft, and gentle, much unlike his own which had a tendency to creep up in volume when he was enthusiastic about something. Phil still didn’t look up at Dan as he led them over to the cafe; his eyes remained focused on his shoes. Dan observed that he was wearing black converse trainers rather than school shoes. They looked quite new; the laces were still pristine white and the converse logo still had a shine to it, which could only mean they were under a month old.  
“Hey, I like your shoelaces,” Dan said. He wasn’t sure if Phil would understand the reference, but the worst case scenario would be that Phil just thought he was a bit odd and was complimenting his shoelaces.   
Phil smiled a little. His smile was adorable, and Dan noticed that his tongue stuck out slightly but was quickly hidden by his hand.  
“Thanks, I stole them from the president.” Phil answered. “I hope that’s what you were after, anyway…”  
“danisnotonfire,” Dan told him. “Do you want me to write it down?”  
Phil looked up, gazing into Dan’s dark brown eyes. He nodded, and Dan felt a surge of pride as he realised he’s managed to get Phil to actually look at him. “It doesn’t have any capital letters,” Dan told him seriously, “and it’s all one word.”  
Dan rummaged in his bag for a pen. “Give me your hand,” he told the boy. “I’ll write it on there. Then you can’t lose it, or spell it wrong. I hate when it’s capitalised.”  
Phil stretched out his hand, and Dan held it still whilst he wrote his username onto Phil’s palm. Then he passed the pen, and held out his own hand as Phil scrawled his own URL.

“How about we go and get the ice-cream and take it into to the park?” Dan asked. “I don’t get the maths homework, but I noticed you’re a whiz at maths. Would you mind explaining it to me?”  
“Okay,” Phil answered shortly.  
Dan so desperately wanted to bring Phil out of his shell, but for now, he figured a quieter environment would give him more chance of sparking some sort of conversation. He wanted Phil to trust that he wasn’t just going to give up trying to connect with him simply because it meant dealing with a few homophobic teenagers .All he knew, was that they both needed a friend if they were going to battle through this year without going insane.  
Dan spotted a gathering of students wearing the same black sweatshirts as them, and nudged Phil to alert him of their presence. Phil looked up, and when he saw them, his eyes sank.  
“Don’t worry,” Dan told him. “We’re only going to be here for a second then we can go and find somewhere quieter so I can give this homework a go.”  
After buying two chocolate ice-creams, they went to sit on a bench close to the children’s play area. There was a pond nearby, where a small boy was sailing a boat made of paper with what looked like his Dad. Phil stole a glance at Dan, and observed how his eyes were the same shade of brown as his ice-cream. He could go swimming in those eyes… Quickly averting his gaze, he internally scolded himself. The last thing he wanted to do was live up to Daryl’s warning and make Dan feel uncomfortable. He didn’t have a crush on him or anything, he simply thought Dan’s eyes were remarkably soft and warm.   
Dan opened his maths book and pointed to the formula he was ‘struggling’ with. He knew how to do it, if he was honest with himself, but he just wanted to hear Phil’s voice.  
Initially, Phil spoke slowly and quietly. He watched Dan intently, waiting for him to stand up and laugh at him, telling him how it was all some prank and he actually hated him. Dan chewed on his pencil, concentrating on the questions as Phil explained them, and every so often, he’d divert from topic and tell Phil a story about his old maths teacher, or his pet dog. Slowly, their conversation became less about the work, and more about their interests. As it turned out, Phil was very much an internet person too. They talked about music, games, and agreed on the fact that sport, though relatively interesting to watch, was not something they particularly cared for taking part in. Dan joked about how he was extremely unfit, but as he stole more glances, Phil couldn’t help but disagree. He didn’t voice this opinion of course, but he sure as hell thought it.  
After a few hours, it began to get dark. Dan and Phil hadn’t really been keeping on top of the time, their conversations growing wilder and more enthusiastic. Phil became more confident, and even felt himself laughing genuinely when Dan pointed at a crow chewing a plastic bag, telling him he related on an emotional level. When Phil’s phone buzzed, he suddenly jumped to his feet, returning to reality with a start. "It’s my…uh, Mum…" Phil mumbled unconvincingly, unlocking his phone and hastily typing a reply. “I have to get back.”  
It was then that Dan noticed Phil hadn’t actually let his Mum know where he was, and she didn’t seem to have realised he was missing until now. He didn’t have to wait long for an explanation, as Phil quickly defended his parents.  
“Mum works long hours. So does Dad. They probably didn’t even know I was gone,” he nervously laughed.  
“Mine’s the same. They won’t be in until later. It’ll just be my brother in the house at the moment, and he’s probably enjoying the peace. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”  
Dan stood up, walking alongside Phil towards the park entrance, as Phil explained that he had a brother who was a few years older than him, but he was at uni so he only saw him in the holidays.  
“See you tomorrow?” Phil smiled.  
“See you tomorrow,” Dan confirmed, a grin spreading across his face. Mission accomplished; he’d seen Phil’s face light up with a spark of hope, and that’s all he’d wanted all along. Thinking about how he could get used to that, he felt happy that he’d actually managed to make a friend on his first day, even if it was only because he’d stalked Phil, wearing him down until he had let Dan hang out with him.  
“Message me on tumblr, yeah?”  
“Sure,” Phil replied, trying to sound cool. As soon as he was sure Dan was out of eyesight, he ran all the way home. It only took him about 7 minutes, and not wanting to sound clingy, he planned to wait an hour or so before messaging his new friend, but his ask box already had the little red ‘1’ in the corner.  
“Hi!” It was Dan.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan sprinted for the first few minutes after saying goodbye to Phil at the park. He wasn’t entirely sure which way home was, as he he’d never been to this part of town in the short couple of months he’d lived there, so he began to retrace his steps from the direction in which they came. Phil had continued walking through town towards the ‘well off’ side of the neighbourhood, and Dan wondered if Phil came from one of the rich estates. He decided that since Phil was attending public school, he couldn’t exactly come from a millionaire family, but he was intrigued nonetheless. After a few minutes, he felt his lungs burning, and he was certain he could taste a metallic tinge of blood, so he admitted defeat and slowed to a hault, panting. Checking the time on his phone, Dan noted that his parents wouldn’t be in for another couple of hours, so he decided not to rush home and sat down under a nearby tree. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but he didn’t feel like being inside; he wanted to inhale the fresh air and feel the breeze on his skin, not sit cooped up in his stuffy bedroom listening to his brother shouting at his Xbox through the walls.   
The sun was only just beginning to set, though it was still relatively warm so Dan slipped his blazer off of his shoulders and loosened his shirt collar and tie. The weather had been the warmest on record in over 100 years that Summer, and was showing no signs of letting up just yet.   
Dan considered playing it cool and waiting a little while before messaging Phil, but deciding Phil was unlikely to mind, he opened the tumblr app and sent him a message. After hitting send, he clicked back to the AmazingPhil profile and began to scroll through the blog, which mainly consisted of lions, anime gifs and memes. After browsing for a few minutes, Dan scrolled back to the top intending to check his messages for a response. Instead, he noticed a link underneath Phil’s profile picture which read ‘AmazingPhil’ which clicked curiously. The tumblr app closed and switched into the YouTube app where Dan was greeted by a colourful header boldly stating ‘AmazingPhil’ and a profile picture of Phil himself posing in a yellow t-shirt with a plushie lion. He didn’t exactly expect to find any videos other than perhaps some family clips or school projects; similar to Dan’s own channel, however he soon noticed that there were in fact 34 videos in total, none of which looked particularly like what he’d expected.. Tapping on the latest video, Dan was astounded to discover it actually had 46,000 views since being uploaded the previous week. Before settling to watch the video, he decided to check Phil’s subscriber count and made his way back to the homepage; 60,000. Dan stared in awe, quickly returning to the ‘Videos’ page, eager to start watching.  
Reading the comments, Dan quickly realised that Phil was popular amongst his fans, and he could see why; the boy on the screen was like an entirely different person to the one he’d just met - confident, funny, and outgoing. It wasn’t that Phil wasn’t funny in real life, because he very much was, but the boy Dan had met in real life was quiet and shy - unsure of himself. Dan wasn’t surprised as such to learn of Phil’s online popularity; he thought Phil was an incredibly likeable guy. It was just that in real life, he was so unpopular. He could barely believe he was watching the same guy as the one he’d met at school - the guy on these videos seemed so comfortable talking in front of the camera, and unlike real life, he was making eye contact with his ‘audience’, chatting away to them about nothing in particular. His editing skills were also very impressive; way better than Dan would have expected of a high school student. Phil was clearly no stranger to creating videos.

Dan settled himself down, leaning against the tree and grabbed a chocolate bar from his bag. Intrigued, he scrolled right down to the first video and began to watch them back in order. Amongst the vlogs and short sketches, there were other videos that made absolutely no sense; an example being a 30 second video entitled “snokoplasm”. The videos really were enjoyable, and Dan quickly lost track of time, the sun setting on the horizon around him.   
___  
Phil messaged back straight away; a quick ‘hello!’, which he determined wouldn’t sound too eager whilst also not leaving Dan hanging. He briefly allowed himself to feel hopeful that after spending the entire of high school alone, he may have finally found a friend in the form of Daniel Howell. Phil never even so much as mentioned he had a tumblr account or YouTube channel to anyone, so giving his URL to Dan was kind of a big deal. He feared that it would only give the other students ammunition against him if they were to know of his online activity, and there was nothing he feared more than his own hobby being ruined by a group of condescending asshats. His heart pounded at the thought of Dan watching his videos. He had 60,000 subscribers to date, so it was quite surprising that nobody from school had found out yet, but Phil wanted to keep it that way for as long as he possibly could. He considered for a moment that perhaps he should have removed the YouTube link before Dan had the chance to see it, but removing it now would only seem suspicious. Instead, he prayed that Dan was genuinely interested in befriending him, and wasn’t about to reveal his secret channel to the whole school.  
Typing ‘danisnotonfire’ into the search bar, Phil felt nervous. Dan seemed like such a nice person, almost too nice, and Phil was afraid that his account would show otherwise. He didn’t want to have gotten his hopes up only to find that he had made friends with a racist twat or a raging furry. Thankfully, scrolling down Dan’s blog, he was reassured to find that he mostly reblogged anime gifs and the occasional political rant. Every so often, there would be a text post written by Dan himself, usually detailing his day, and as Phil delved deeper, he found that some of these posts to be slightly concerning. One in particular that caught his eye read:  
“you,” he said, “are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.” - emilie autumn.   
it’s incredibly hard to find meaning in existence when so many people are intent on making you believe you’re worthless. how is it, in 2017, kids still beat you up for being gay? well, apparently, that’s a thing, and I now have 2 broken ribs (apparently it needs surgery), a broken arm, and an even more broken spirit. damn.  
Phil hadn’t realised it at the time, and he silently chastised himself for overlooking such an obvious observation, but it seemed the reason Dan was so relaxed about the bullying was because he was also all too familiar with it. Phil felt butterflies in his stomach as he came to the conclusion that the brown haired boy was not in fact an enemy, and instead, a firm ally. A couple hours passed, and Dan hadn’t replied. Phil began to panic. What if he’d decided he didn’t like him? What if he was laughing at his YouTube videos right now? Phil closed his laptop and went to make himself a drink.

Dan glanced at the clock on his phone. 10.30pm. Surely that couldn’t be right, he thought. He squinted again at the top of his screen, and again, read ‘10.30pm’; Dan had been watching Phil’s YouTube videos for well over a couple of hours, time being lost on him as he enjoyed the quirky content. His parents were due back from work any minute, and he figured that due to the lack of concerned messages, they hadn’t yet realised he was missing. Hauling himself to his feet, he shook away the numbness, and ignoring the incessant burning in his lungs, he ran all the way home.   
When Dan arrived on his street, he noticed that his parents’ car was in the driveway. Shit. He pulled out his phone and saw that whilst he had been running, his Mum had sent 4 messages and rang him twice. He took a moment to catch his breath before making his way to his door, slowly turning the handle and pushing it open as quietly as he could. Unfortunately, the door had a squeak in the hinges. Back at his old house, he knew every creak in every floorboard and door; he’d mastered returning late and not getting caught, and he used this skill to his advantage, often going out in the middle of the night for long walks in an attempt to dull the deafening chaos in his brain.   
“DANIEL!” His Mum shouted. Dan sighed, hoping he wasn’t about to endure one of her agonising lectures about responsibility. “Where have you been?! I just walked through the door 5 minutes ago, and honestly, I was about to call the police.”  
Dan froze at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face her. “Just in the park. Phil was helping me with my Maths homework.” Dan hoped that pulling the homework card would calm his Mum down. Instead, his Mum quietened at the mention of another student, her heart skipping a beat as she hopefully considered the fact that her son may have made his first friend.  
“Oh. Is he in your class?" she asked, instantly calmer.   
"Yeah,” Dan answered, relief sweeping through him as he realised his Mum was too interested in Phil to start giving him the talk about the dangers of the streets. “He’s in all of my classes. He’s better at Maths than me so he was just helping me out.”  
“That was nice of him! How about you ask him round for tea one night?” Mrs Howell said to Dan, smiling.  
“Mum, that’s not how it works. I barely know him yet!" Mrs Howell nodded as though she understood and hastily changed the subject, not wanting to put Dan off talking to her about his new friend in the future.   
"I’ll make you a cheese toastie; you must be starving, but for goodness sake Dan, text me when you’re going to be in late? I’m not happy with you staying out until dark on a school night,” Mrs Howell frowned. “Go and get ready for bed, and don’t put your washing on your floor, young man. We have a washing basket for a reason.”  
Dan climbed the stairs to his room, being careful not to trip on the many boxes and bags littering the floor. He was thankful he’d gotten off so lightly, and with that thought, he made a mental note to remember to text his Mum next time.  
Through the wall, he could hear his brother Andrew playing Final Fantasy. He was surprised his Mum hadn’t been up to tell him to turn the damn thing off at this time of night, but then, she probably had; Andrew listened to nobody.  
Suddenly remembering that he had messaged Phil earlier, he checked his tumblr, and sure enough, Phil had replied - hours ago. “Hey!”  
”i checked your videos out,“ Dan wrote, ”they are so COOL. that’s why i haven’t replied yet. sorry.“  
As soon as he had clicked send, he dropped his phone onto his bed and scavenged through his drawers for a clean pair of pyjamas and threw his school uniform onto the floor. He had briefly considered making the walk to the laundry basket in the bathroom, but it seemed like an awful amount of effort when there was still space on his floor just waiting to be filled with miscellaneous crap.  
Dan suddenly realised just how hungry he was as the smell of cheese began to waft into his room from the hallway. He heard a knock on his door and stayed silent, picking up his phone again. When she didn’t hear any panicked protests (because you can never be too sure with teenage boys, she mused), Dan’s Mum opened the door to bring him his toastie. Mrs Howell sighed and rolled her eyes at the mess that greeted her. She snatched the clothes from the ground. “I’ll start making you wash your own clothes if you carry on ignoring the laundry basket, Mr Howell,” she threatened. “And I’ll stop bringing you food upstairs and you’ll have to eat at the table like a civilised human.” Dan mumbled an empty apology and promised he’d remember in the future, and listened as his Mum deposited his uniform into the laundry basket as she walked past the bathroom. See? Dan thought. His Mum was going to be walking along there anyway, and it saved him a trip, so why didn’t she understand that it was just logical?  
'You don’t have to pretend to like them.” Phil had replied. Dan figured he must have already been online to have replied so quickly.   
’i’m not pretending! i thought they were great! how often do you upload?’

“I don’t know…maybe about once a week? I like your blog btw.”

'Thanks!’  
Dan and Phil continued to talk for another couple of hours, until Phil’s messages became filled with spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. It was then that he admitted he could barely keep his eyes open, and they said goodbye. After all, they did have to be up early for school in the morning.  
As Dan lay in bed, finally alone with his thoughts, he began to reflect on his first day at school. His stomach fluttered just thinking about Phil. He wasn’t sure what that meant, or what the feeling was exactly, but he knew it was a feeling he could get used to. Ignoring the swirling butterflies, he closed his eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, only hours after finally tearing his eyes away from his tumblr messages, Phil was awoken by his alarm clock bleeping madly from his bedside; it was 7am, an hour before he would have to leave for school. He rolled onto his side and tried to prise his eyes open, sneezing as he caught sight of the sunlight flooding into his room. Phil didn’t tend to close his curtains at night; his room was on the 3rd floor so it wasn’t as though his neighbours could peer in, and the awakening with sunshine each day helped to regulate his circadian rhythm. He wasn’t a morning person, and he’d once read that allowing yourself to wake up naturally to sunlight was a gentle way to start your day. Phil wasn’t convinced there was any ‘gentle’ way to drag yourself out from underneath the blankety warmth of your bed, but he would take any help he could get.  
As he considered this, he began to pick up the scent of bacon wafting into his room from the hall; Denise, an employee of his parents, was cooking breakfast. Denise had worked for the Lesters for as long as Phil could remember. She had very little family of her own, therefore rarely took annual leave. In a way, Phil was like a son to her; she had taken care of him almost every single day of his life. Mr and Mrs Lester were rarely home; they ran a very successful business and spent most days at their office in Leeds. Since it was so far away, they tended to stay there on weekdays whenever they were particularly busy, which was most of the time. Phil wasn’t even entirely sure what they did exactly; he’d never asked, and they’d never told him.  
Phil pulled his blankets from his body, curling up further as he was exposed to the cold air, then swivelled around to rest his feet on the floor. He noticed his new uniform was folded neatly on his chest of drawers and he made a note to thank Denise when he made his way down for breakfast.  
As he padded along to the main bathroom, he tied his dressing gown around him and brushed his fringe from his eyes. He could barely see a thing without his glasses, and along with the tiredness, this caused him to stumble over the cat and bump into a doorframe.  
“Phil!” Denise called from downstairs, hearing his footsteps shuffling along the hall. “Breakfast!”  
“Won’t be long!” Phil shouted back, his voice croaking with tiredness. He quickly brushed his teeth, preferring to do this before breakfast, then brushed his hair smooth, fixing it into place with hairspray. Running down the stairs, he paid little attention to his footing, and missed the bottom step. He laughed to himself as he thought about how clumsy he was. When he had been a toddler, he had had a house rabbit named Holly; he had always distinctly remembered the time she had gone missing, only to turn up when Phil was playing on his trike in the garden. He had swerved, only to land in a thorn bush, much to his mother’s despair. Another time, he’d fearlessly climbed an apple tree in search of the poisonous spiders and venomous snakes he’d been learning about at school, when he missed a branch and fell, breaking his arm. His mother had screamed at him about how she didn’t have time for such childish behaviour, which had confused Phil, because he was a child. His father had shouted when Phil began to cry, telling him not to be such a baby, and Phil hadn’t understood what he’d meant either, because his arm was hurting and it made it better to cry. Denise had scooped him up into her arms and he’d buried himself into her warmth, his tears slowing down as she soothed him, offering to drive him to the hospital rather than his mother. Denise had claimed she didn’t want the Lesters to be interrupted from their work, but really she couldn’t stand the thought of Phil being stuck with his cold parents in an unfamiliar environment, crying with pain. Sometimes she wished Phil was her own. He deserved better.  
“Morning!” smiled Denise cheerily.   
“Hi,” Phil yawned. “Are Mum and Dad at work?” He knew the answer already. Denise was cheerful and relaxed, cooking unhealthy amounts of bacon; his parents couldn’t possibly be home. Denise nodded. “It’s just us. I made bacon this morning. How many sandwiches do you want? Two? Three? You’re a growing boy…I’ll dish you up three, but don’t tell your mother.” Phil laughed, though knew what they were both thinking; he didn’t see his mother often enough to say very much to her at all.  
—   
On the other side of town, Dan was only just beginning to stir. It was 7.30; he would have to miss breakfast, but in his opinion, a bowl of coco pops was a small sacrifice for an extra half an hour in bed. “DAN!” a voice shouted from the hallway. “DAN! MUM TOLD ME TO WAKE YOU UP, YOU LAZY SHIT” “ANDREW! That is not what your Mum told you to say. LESS OF THE LANGUAGE,” shouted Mr Howell from downstairs. Dan heard Andrew laugh from the hallway as he replied, “SORRY DAD!” Andrew shuffled along to Dan’s door and pushed it open. Dan was always shouting at his brother for invading his privacy, but Andrew didn’t care about privacy. “Get up! It’s 8am! You’re totally going to be late.”   
“WHAT?!” Dan shouted, rolling out of bed and landing on the floor with a thud. “My clock says 7.30!”  
Andrew shook his head, his face serious. “Definitely 8.”   
“Andrew, stop winding your brother up,” Mrs Howell scolded as she walked into the room with a pile of newly washed clothes. “Here Dan, I had to wash your uniform from yesterday because I haven’t gotten round to buying more sweatshirts yet. You’ll have to wait until payday.”   
“Thanks,” Dan mumbled, standing up and racing his brother to the bathroom. He got there first, and shut the door, sliding the lock in place. Glancing at the clock on the bathroom wall, Dan sighed. It was definitely 7.30am.  
—   
“Hey! Phil!” Dan shouted as he spotted Phil’s tufty black hair and bright yellow backpack. He broke into a run, trying to catch up with him. Despite having parted to walk in different directions, it seemed that they walked the same way to school and Dan wondered if there was a quicker way for him to get home that he didn’t yet know about. He figured he’d use google maps, too nervous to ask.  
Phil abruptly stopped and turned around, initially fearful. When he spotted the origin of the voice, he allowed a slight smile to creep across his face as he waited for Dan to catch up. “Hey,” Dan gasped, panting as he tried to regain his breath. “I’m really no good at this running stuff.” Phil’s heart began to race as though he were the one who’d just been running, and noticing this, he broke out in a sweat. He refused to acknowledge the emotions coursing through him and took a deep breath. “Me neither.”  
Together, they walked the rest of the way to school, chatting mindlessly about music and YouTube. It was mostly Dan who did the majority of the talking, though Phil was grateful; he didn’t find conversation easy, but if Dan felt uncomfortable with Phil’s quietness, he didn’t show it.  
Dan didn’t know how, but he was going to tease Phil out of his shell and instil confidence in him. Seeing how comfortable he was in front of his 60,000 viewers, Dan just knew that if he kept going - kept proving to Phil that he wasn’t going to make fun of him, it was very possible that Phil would gain more confidence and find his voice. Hell, he might even express an opinion or two. His voice was like music to Dan’s ears, and he felt rage burn up inside of him that anyone had ever made Phil feel inadequate.  
Throughout the day, Dan continued to sit next to Phil in every lesson, despite the disapproving eyes of the other students. Dan didn’t mind - he was just thankful he hadn’t been subjected to another day in isolation. He knew by sitting with Phil, he was practically welcoming the bullying, but he didn’t care one bit. This time, it would be worth it. Phil learnt that Dan was incredibly intelligent, and began to doubt that his new friend had needed help with his homework the previous night after all, but the thought of Dan pretending just to coax Phil into friendship only made Phil grow fonder.   
That Lunchtime, Dan followed Phil down to the canteen like a little lost puppy. He felt a bit awkward and slightly worried that Phil would find him irritating but he had nobody else to sit with and he kind of hoped that Phil was his friend now. “Can I-”   
“You can sit with me if you have to,” Phil smirked as he set down his bag on a table. He stayed standing as he waited for Dan to respond. Dan felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. He smiled and pretended to sigh. “Phil, your presence is as dazzling as a sky full of a stars, and it would be an honour to be in your company.”  
Phil laughed; a genuine, heartfelt laugh.  
Unfortunately, as the laws of luck dictate, a group of year 10’s were passing at that very moment, and they never failed to disappoint. "There’s the freaks,” one of them sniggered as he pointed at them. “Let’s go sit with them!” The group of students laughed maliciously, and began to crowd around the table, circling like vultures. Dan grabbed Phil’s elbow, guiding him away from the group, casting an angry stare at them as he walked away. Although he tried really hard not to show it, Phil shut down whenever they were nearby; his mind stopped ticking and his tongue turned to stone. He took it all in; he heard everything they said, and he listened to it, stockpiling their taunts into the file of ‘Reasons Phil Hates Himself’. His confidence and self-worth were shot to pieces, crumbling away further each time they opened their mouths.  
“That’s right! You protect your boyfriend from the big boys!” another jeered. Dan fought hard with the urge to turn around and punch him right in the face. He’d had good practise at his old school, and his aim was exceptional, but he knew all too well who’d end up with the blame. Nevertheless, he wanted them to feel all the pain that Phil felt internally when they mocked him. Phil said it didn’t bother him but Dan knew better.  
Phil pointed to the field as they exited the hall. “Yeah,” Dan agreed, “How about we eat over in the corner where that tree is? It’ll be quite shaded and it looks quiet.” Shade was still very much important despite it being September already. It rarely cooled below 20 degrees Celsius, and for Britain, that was pretty warm. Once they had sat down, Phil began to talk again as though nothing had happened. Dan pretended not to notice the sudden shift. “Where do you usually sit?” Dan asked curiously as he began to unwrap a sandwich that his Mum had made for him that morning. “Here,” Phil replied, motioning to the patch of grass they were sitting on.   
“And they don’t bother you here?”   
“Not really. They play football, and I just read. Sometimes I sneak out through the hole in the fence back there. I don’t think they know about it, and nobody ever realises I’m gone.” Phil told Dan with a grin, pointing to a part of the fence that had a missing fencepost, leaving a slightly wider gap.   
Dan grinned. “Maybe you could show me some time…”  
Phil adjusted his fringe whilst staring into the blank screen of his phone. Dan couldn’t control the thoughts of utter adoration that he was feeling for his classmate at that moment. His hair was amazing. It was the kind of hair that Dan had hoped for when he took a trip to the hairdressers a few weeks ago, but if he wanted anything that didn’t resemble hobbit hair, he had to straighten it for at least half an hour. Despite his hatred for his natural curls, he preferred to have extra sleep in the mornings as opposed to waking up earlier to do anything about it. His brother, blessed with poker straight hair teased him terribly whenever he used straighteners and his Dad just sighed and told him real men didn't play around with their hair. His Mum said he looked handsome; that the girls would be fighting over him, and that was even more embarrassing than going to school with curls - partly because she didn’t know he wasn’t interested in girls quite the same way as boys, but also because the only time anyone ever spoke to him was to make fun of him. In retrospect, he was quite surprised it never got back to his Mum that he liked boys. After all, Andrew was only a couple of years below him, meaning he surely knew of the rumours, and yet he never mentioned it. Dan wondered if he was disgusted, or perhaps that he was sticking to some unspoken brotherly rule that forbade him from telling their parents; what happens at school stays at school…  
“Is your hair naturally that wavy?” Phil asked Dan, breaking him away from his distracted mind-wandering.   
“Uh-huh, although I really wish it was naturally straight like yours.”   
“Are you kidding me? My hair looks permanently greasy because it just flops over my head. I have to put tonnes of hairspray on it to make it look half okay!” Phil exclaimed, fluffing his fringe up. Dan laughed. “No way, your hair is awesome!”   
“Well I wish we could like, have a hair transplant or something, because I prefer yours,” Phil joked.  
Dan decided to take a wild leap into the unknown; summon his courage and ask what he’d been trying to build the courage to ask all morning… “Are you doing anything after school?”   
“No,” Phil answered, his heart flipping over, praying that Dan was going to be on tumblr.   
“Fancy hanging out?” Dan asked, feeling his cheeks turn red with embarrassment. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious.   
“That’d be- um, that’d be okay,” Phil told him, averting his eyes and trying to play it cool. “I mean, I’m not doing anything else…”  
Later that day, Dan and Phil walked down toward the park again, partly because it was quieter than walking in the other direction with the throng of students, and partly because Phil wanted to show Dan the music store a couple of streets down from the town centre. Phil talked non-stop the whole way there and Dan couldn’t help but smile to himself because 24 hours ago, Phil had barely uttered a single sentence and now he couldn’t shut him up! He didn’t mind though; in fact, he revelled in the success of his mission to befriend the boy. He loved Phil’s little nervous giggle, and the way his tongue poked out of his mouth as he laughed.   
Dan was in awe of the music store. It still sold CDs and records, along with the merchandise of every relevant band or singer from old timers like Queen and David Bowie, to Muse, to Justin Bieber (not so appealing to Dan), to K-Pop. Dan spent his £5 'bus money’ that his Mum gave him in case of rain on a Muse sticker set with the intention of adding them to his mural of random stickers on his laptop. Phil didn’t buy anything, and Dan wondered if it was because he couldn’t afford to, though Phil insisted he owned most of the shop’s merch having lived there so long. Dan struggled to believe him, because it seemed a pretty far fetched excuse, but he let it slide.  
A few hours later, Phil told Dan that he best head home since his parents were due back earlier tonight. He explained that he wasn’t actually meant to socialise on school nights; that he’d have to sneak in before they noticed he was gone. “So is it usually just you at home?” Dan questioned Phil.   
“No…Denise is always there. She’s the housekeeper.” Phil replied nervously before he could change his mind. He didn’t know how Dan would react to this information. Usually, people would accuse him of bragging or call him names. But not Dan. Dan didn’t seem to care at all. In fact, he didn’t even mention it, but instead began to tell Phil about how annoying Andrew was when they were both alone. Apparently, he loved to wind Dan up and his favourite trick was turning the internet modem off randomly, then laughing when his brother appeared downstairs to investigate.   
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Dan said, grinning.   
“Message me on tumblr?” Phil answered.   
“Of course.” Dan turned to walk away, still completely unsure of where he was headed. Phil’s heart skipped a beat, and knowing it was now or never, he took a deep breath and shouted after his friend. “Dan?!” Dan swung around to look at Phil. Phil’s heart was beating faster than a bass track in a nightclub by this point. “Doyouwannacometomyhousetomorrow?” Phil asked in one terrified breath. Dan smiled knowingly. “Yeah, sure.” They shared a smile then turned to walk home in opposite directions, Dan completely unaware that his street was just opposite the housing estate on which Phil lived. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an intense chapter with strong descriptions of self-harm. If you don't want to read it, that's fine! I'll just sum it up in the notes at the beginning of the next chapter.

Phil sat cross legged on his bed, staring at the shocking green walls surrounding him. He felt suddenly claustrophobic, the air too thick to inhale; he felt as though he were suffocating, despite the air he was breathing consisting mostly of that sweet oxygen his lungs so desperately craved. He wouldn’t hurt himself, he told himself sternly. This time, he wouldn’t cave in. He peered down at his scarred skin, silently cursing himself for causing his arms and legs to be mottled with thick, ugly scars; not just thin red slashes, but also thick, bumpy blotches where he’d burnt himself. Each individual flaw told a story - signified a battle within himself that he had valiantly fought, but pathetically lost. Phil ran his fingers over one particular disfigurement which had landed him in hospital for a week; a burn that covered his elbow, ending mid forearm. He hadn’t intended to cause such lasting damage, but the intensity of distress he was feeling in the moment meant he’d acted impulsively, scalding himself with the water he’d intended to use for his coffee. Screaming in pain, he had collapsed to the floor clawing at the injury until Denise had run in, soothing him, softly encouraging him over to the sink and holding him whilst he held his arm under the cold tap. I just slipped, he told her. I didn’t mean to. For such an honest person, the lies Phil had told to cover his injuries bothered him greatly, but he couldn’t let anyone find out his secret. He came from a well off, respectable family. He had nothing to be depressed about, and self-harm was just something people did if they’d been through a terrible trauma - that’s what he told himself. Hell, Phil even felt reluctant to use the term ‘self-harm’. It sounded too serious for what he was doing. He was only masking his emotions with physical sensations; he wasn’t an emo or anything. 

Just thinking about the immense relief he’d felt when his skin seared with pain, Phil’s heart leapt. He felt adrenaline and want fill his entire being. Just one more wouldn’t hurt surely? Just one more…one more…one… That’s what he’d told himself each and every time, but as he dragged the blade across his skin, he often felt disappointed in the shallowness of the incision, furiously slicing more and more until he felt somewhat satisfied. The thing was, he never felt satisfied, and deep down he knew he never would, and yet each time he felt his body become heavy with unbearable emotion, he would reach for that cold, lifeless blade. The blade owned him. It dictated where and how and when. It would carve him up and jeer at him as he fought to save himself from the swirling fog in his brain.  
   
Tonight was no exception. Phil had only just closed his web browser after chatting to Dan. Dan made him feel all sorts of wonderful emotions, and for that, Phil was eternally grateful. He’d felt so little for so long, which was entirely why he’d found himself overwhelmed and unable to comprehend what he was experiencing; the warmth of friendship. He’d tried to pull away, but soon realised there was no possible way to distance himself from the brown haired boy without causing pain. The problem was, whatever Phil did, collateral damage was unavoidable.   
   
He lifted his mattress softly, and slipped his hands underneath, feeling for the wad of tissues encasing the blade. His felt his fingers brush against them and his heart soared with anticipation. Rolling up his sleeves, Phil took a deep breath and grabbed a box of tissues from his nightstand; the very last thing he needed was Denise discovering blood on his sheets. He already felt she was onto him, having questioned him only weeks earlier about his bloodied sleeves. Since then, he’d been careful to separate his washing and discreetly load the machine himself with any stained clothing.  
   
Before he’d even made a single cut, Phil felt calmer; more in control. This was the single thing that he alone controlled. It was his secret that nobody knew about, and though he knew deep down that it couldn’t possibly forever remain a secret, Phil revelled in the calmness of having something that he alone dictated, much unlike everything else in his life.  
   
He’d have been lying if he said he didn’t feel fear before each cut; of course he did. He was about to slice into the biggest organ of his body; his skin - of course he felt some degree of fear, but he enjoyed the adrenaline, a stark reminder that despite the numbness he felt each day, he was still very much alive. The first cut was pathetic. It barely seared through the skin. This time, Phil pressed down harder, drew the blade across his forearm quicker. Blood began to drip in a slow, consistent procession down his arm. The adrenaline heightened and Phil felt himself calm as the intensity of his grief began to dissipate. Just one more, he thought. But that one more wasn’t enough, and before he could re-evaluate the situation, there were no less than 10 cuts on Phil’s arm, each with yellow bubbling fat peeking through the wound. He knew they needed stitches, but he also knew he wouldn’t get any. A visit to hospital would surely reveal his secret, and he couldn’t afford that right now. His parents were busy; he already felt like such a burden on them. Dan would be weirded out, and he couldn’t jeopardise potentially the first friend he’d ever made in the history of his school career. No, he had to deal with this himself, as always.  
   
Thankfully, he kept a first aid kit tucked into the drawer underneath his nightstand. These cuts called for a thick bandage to apply just the right amount of pressure to soothe the stinging sensation that would eventually creep into his consciousness once he had calmed down. Phil dug around in the little green pouch until he located some gauze, dressing pads, a bandage and some tape. All the while, his arms were dripping with crimson, leaking onto the tissues, and through the fibres onto his bedding. He made a mental note to wash his bedding in the morning and began to dab carefully at the wounds until he could stop the bleeding long enough to replace the tissue with dressing pads. He wrapped the bandage firmly around his forearm, and then slipped into a hoodie, hoping that should the blood leak through for any reason, he wouldn’t be contributing to the growing stain on his sheets. Despite the dash to cover his bloodied arm, Phil felt somewhat calmer, though he most certainly felt a pang of guilt. He had promised himself he wasn’t to do this again, just as he had every single time since the first incident, but just like always, he’d failed.   
   
Phil picked up his phone to put it on charge before bed, and the screen lit up with a message from Dan; ‘Night Phil <3’. Phil didn’t know what the heart insinuated, but it caused his own heart to pound. He thought about how Dan didn’t deserve such an emotional trainwreck for a friend and his thoughts began to spiral into plans to break off the friendship. He hated himself in that moment for being such a mess. He wanted nothing more than to disappear. Phil couldn’t bring himself to type a reply, and tucking himself right underneath the blankets, he stuffed his face into his pillow as he attempted to muffle his cries as his body shook with pain. He cried for a long, long time, before eventually drifting slowly into a troubled slumber, tears streaked down his face.


	6. Chapter 6

Dan scrunched his eyes as the sun began to glare through his paper thin curtains into his bedroom. The first thing he noticed was the twisting in his gut that reminded him he'd forgotten to take his antidepressants the previous day. He groaned, fully aware of the hellish withdrawal symptoms he would now be forced to endure throughout his morning of school until his next dose had the chance to absorb into his blood stream. As he swung his feet over onto the floor, his entire vision tilted as he felt a zap burst through his brain. He knew that he really did need to get into the habit of swallowing the giant ass pink capsule with his breakfast each morning, but Dan hated getting out of bed. If he could have, he'd have loved nothing more than to remain a warm blanket burrito for the entire day and watching reruns of Friends on Netflix. Often, at his previous school, he would simply refuse to move from his bed for days on end rather than drag himself from his cocoon. He'd begun by convincing his Mum he was sick, until she grew suspicious after her son had supposedly contracted 4 stomach bugs in one month. Eventually, however, he would just firmly tell her that there was no way he could face the world that day, and as much as his Mum tried to gently encourage him, there was nothing that would entice Dan from under his duvet on the the worst days. That's when she had forced him to see a doctor. Dan considered for a moment explaining to his Mum that he was feeling dizzy, but then he remembered Phil and knew there was no way he'd leave his friend alone with their problematic classmates for the day, even if he felt like he was going to throw up every time he moved his head. 

Squinting blearily at his phone, Dan immediately scanned the lock screen for a reply from Phil but the screen was only filled with spam email notifications from Gmail. He made a mental note to unsubscribe to yet more third party content he hadn’t signed up for, before unlocking his phone and dragging down the notification centre just to make sure he hadn’t missed any messages. Nothing. Dan had been feeling a little overconfident the previous night, and as a result, he had added a little heart to the end of his goodnight text. Now, he was panicking.   
Phil hadn't replied, but he'd seen the message, as shown by the little ‘seen’ in the bottom right corner. Dan cursed as he began to consider all of the possible ways Phil could have interpreted the message, silently reprimanding himself for assuming that Phil would be comfortable with this development. Just because they were both gay didn't automatically guarantee that Phil would be interested in him; if he had any sense, he’d run a mile. Dan sighed, placed his phone on his bedside table, and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.  
   
As he walked to school, Dan scanned his surroundings for Phil, slowly becoming increasingly anxious at his absence. His heart pounded with the fear that he’d lost the only friend he’d managed to make in the entirety of his high school years. The pair had agreed to meet at a memorial statue two streets from Dan's house, and Dan was almost positive he was in the right place. After waiting for 10 minutes, Dan frowned and tried not to allow his terrible self esteem to feed his thoughts into his depression. Perhaps Phil had simply forgotten, he reasoned. Glancing at the time on his phone, Dan realised he had no choice but to carry on to school otherwise he would almost certainly be late. The last thing he needed in his first week at school was a detention. Walking as fast as he could (without actually doing any challenging physical exercise), Dan rushed towards the school gates, where he finally spotted Phil. He smiled slightly with anticipation until he realised that Phil wasn't alone. Immediately, the sickening sensation in his stomach dramatically increased. Phil didn't have any other friends, and the only time anyone else took any time to interact with him at all was to tease or mock him.   
   
Dan squinted as he tried to make out the faces of the crowd but they were too far away. He began to sprint towards the group, preparing for confrontation. Regardless of any potential awkwardness between he and Phil, Dan was not the type of person to plead ignorance to bullying of any kind. As he drew closer, the first thing he identified was the unmistakeable harsh voice that he knew belonged to Daryl. From somewhere amongst the crowd, Daryl was shouting threateningly and it didn't take much to work out who his rage was aimed toward. Dan quickly searched the area for a teacher but realised they were alone. Convenient, he thought.   
"I swear to God, if I EVER find out that it was you, I will burn your fucking house down. With you and your family in it," Daryl hissed. Phil backed away but Daryl grabbed his arm, tightening his fingers around his elbow like a vice. "I mean it, you faggot." Phil flinched and tried to push his way out of the crowd, his eyes fixed on the floor. He was clearly reluctant to engage in the altercation as he shuffled from one foot to another. "OI!" Dan shouted, forcefully shoving Daryl away from Phil. He wasn’t sure to what Daryl was referring in his accusations, but he would have put money on the fact that it had nothing to do with anything Phil had actually done. “Get off him! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Dan was aware of the sniggering, jeering faces of the crowd, but honestly, it meant nothing to him. The only thing he cared about in that moment was directing Phil safely away from the situation without incident. "Oh look..." Daryl laughed, circling the pair. "It's your boyfriend!" Dan felt fury burning through his blood as he glared threateningly at the bully. Though Phil's face remained expressionless, Dan recognised the sadness in his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, Dan tried to remain calm. He knew that Daryl clearly had his own issues that fuelled his hatred, but it didn’t grant him a free pass to make Phil’s life miserable. "Leave. Phil. ALONE," he spat, guiding Phil away as best he could. "I mean it." Daryl began to snigger, then turned to mutter to his audience. Dan was struggling to contain his anger. "What was that?" Dan asked, standing in front of Phil as though to shield him from further insults and violence - not because he believed Phil was incapable of defending himself (he probably had more faith in Phil's abilities than Phil did himself), but he felt protective of the quiet boy who had apparently long since lost his motivation to defend himself.  
Phil was an absolute ray of sunshine; he brought calm and comfort to anyone who gave him a moments consideration, and yet nobody gave him the chance. It infuriated Dan to no end.

"You're just scared I'm gonna steal your man.." Daryl teased, pausing for laughter, which his crowd did not deny him. Dan had had enough. His whole body was shaking with anger. Dan lunged forwards, grabbing his shirt collar and keeping it firmly clasped in his fist with strength he didn’t even know he possessed. He dragged Daryl's face towards his own until they were mere inches apart.   
"Dan…no…" Phil whispered. "Please." Dan was temporarily distracted enough that he was able to rationalise that beating the shit out of Daryl would only guarantee a detention, and he and Phil were meant to be hanging out later that day. With this in mind, he let go, letting Daryl fall to the floor. He turned to face Phil, willing himself to take deep breaths to steady his breathing and bring his heart rate down. Unfortunately, Daryl wasn't going down without a fight. Apparently, Dan had only aggravated him more, much like poking a stick at a grizzly bear. He leapt up and took two strides in Dan’s direction, fist raised, ready to punch Dan in full force for humiliating him. Thankfully for Dan, he was no stranger to this, and his reaction time was impressive. He swiftly spun around and punched Daryl fiercely in the jaw. There was blood everywhere, and Dan stopped for a moment to take in the scene, shocked at his strength. Daryl was now sporting a remarkable gash to his face. Dan glanced from Daryl to Phil sorrowfully, unsure of what to do next. Phil pulled the shell-shocked Dan towards the school, sighing in despair. "That was stupid," Phil muttered, and Dan couldn't help but return a quiet apology in submission.   
Needless to say, Dan spent his evening in detention.  
   
   When his hour of tedious punishment finally drew to a close, Dan skulked out of the school building ruminating on his ruined evening. As he glanced up, he suddenly spotted a figure hunched over a textbook. Looking angelic as always, Phil was sitting cross legged with his book in hand on a picnic bench by the field. He looked almost too peaceful and content to disturb. Almost. "Phil!" Dan shouted with a smile. Phil looked up with a start and grinned. "Thought you were going to be there all night!" Dan laughed and broke into a run.   
"Thanks for waiting.”   
"No problem. Thanks for sticking up for me," Phil mumbled, gazing intently at his socks. "But it was stupid."  
"Where the hell are your shoes?!" Dan asked, confused, noticing Phil's bright green socks with tiny pandas. "I mean…jazzy socks - I appreciate the style going on there, but where are your shoes?!" "They were uncomfortable," Phil answered simply as if it were the most reasonable explanation in the world, "They're over there." Dan smirked as he admired his strange friend who was now pulling his converse trainers back onto his feet.   
"I have the new portal game," Phil announced. “Fancy coming over and testing it out?”   
"It's legit the only thing that got me through that hour of hell," Dan beamed.   
   
   "Phil! Where have you been?!" Denise exclaimed worriedly as she surveyed the tall, brown haired giant who had just stepped into the kitchen behind Phil.   
"It was my fault," Dan replied awkwardly, diverting his gaze to the wall in embarrassment, leaving out the details to spare his dignity.   
”This is Dan. He punched Daryl,” Phil smirked, and Dan cringed. He was hoping he would make a good first impression on Phil’s parents, and yet here they were confessing Dan’s violent outburst before introductions. “I was waiting for him whilst he was in detention.”  
"Well I can’t say that boy didn’t have it coming to him. Has he been bothering you again, Phil?” Denise asked with concern.   
”Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little bit.” Denise’s eyes shifted to Dan, who she gave a knowing look, almost as though to say ‘we both know he’s lying…’ and Dan nodded slightly.   
”Well, you can tell me about it later. So…this is Dan! Dan, I've heard a lot about you-,"   
"This is Denise…" Phil interrupted, instantly confusing Dan who had assumed it was his mother. Phil’s cheeks blushed ever so slightly as he very eagerly interrupted this potentially dangerous conversation. Denise knew that Phil was gay, and she knew that he had a crush on Dan. Phil’s parents had no idea about his sexuality, and he was absolutely terrified of broaching the subject with them. Thankfully, due to their absence, he didn’t really feel obligated to mention it, aware that he could probably elope with a guy and they’d never show enough interest in his life to ask with whom he’d exchanged rings. Despite his reluctance to share this part of himself with his family, Phil trusted Denise and had told her years earlier. From then on, Phil had been able to openly comment about how Channing Tatum was hot, and how Harry Styles just wasn't working those shoes in Denise's gossip magazines without judgement as they poured over them at breakfast. They had both agreed that Benedict Cumberbatch had a nerdy attractiveness that was not to be contended with, drooling over him in the latest episode of Sherlock and Phil had introduced her to Tyler Oakley after fangirling at an @ reply on Twitter and declaring his adoration for the American YouTuber. Phil felt completely comfortable talking about anything with the housekeeper, and so when he had returned home beaming from ear to ear, Denise had enthusiastically questioned him, to which Phil had eagerly announced that he liked the new guy in his class. Phil had assured her that they were just friends, but Denise knew from the look on his face that he wished it was something more. Phil was sure that Denise would never intentionally slip up and share anything that was intended to remain strictly between them, but he wasn't taking any chances.   
"Sorry for not introducing myself properly; I'm the housekeeper at the Lester residence," she told Dan. "I cook, clean, and tidy up after Phil because I swear that boy makes more mess than a bull in a china shop."  
Dan smiled politely, noting that she hadn’t specifically mentioned Mr and Mrs Lester, and they didn't appear to be home either.   
"Denise, can we order a pizza in tonight?" Phil asked. Denise was terrible at saying no to Phil. He had her wrapped around his little finger – he always had. She had spoiled him rotten from a young age in her best attempt to make up for the lack of parental guidance and love in his life. Phil didn't ask for much, and he was always so incredibly polite and grateful, and so Denise really didn't see the harm in letting Phil have his own way every now and again. His parents left money aside each week for anything Phil might need, and up until previous year, Denise had been in control of it. Now, Phil managed his own finances, and much to Denise's distaste, he spent most of it on music, takeaways and video games. She couldn't complain though, he remained slim due to regular gym sessions, and always switched his gaming consoles off before 11pm (or so she thought).   
"Of course, but don't go into the front room - I'm busy cleaning the carpet, so it's wet and I don't want you trailing soap suds all over the place. Your mother is having a dinner party at the weekend. And take your shoes off." Phil kicked his shoes into a corner of the kitchen and Dan followed suit.

Phil said goodbye to Denise before leading Dan up an elegant wooden staircase, and then another, until they finally reached Phil's bedroom which was tucked right at the end of a long corridor. As soon as Dan walked inside, he immediately recognised it as the setting of Phil's videos. He even spotted Lion who was perching on the headboard of a tremendous king sized bed. Dan noticed the video camera on the glass desk and picked it up, examining the make and model. "Pretty cool room!" he exclaimed, impressed. "Yeah…" Phil answered embarrassed. "Just dump your bag anywhere. You're about to be thrashed at portal, then Halo. If you’re lucky, I might just show you my Mario Karting abilities.” Dan laughed. "To be honest, I’m pretty damn amazing at Mario Kart, and you’ll totally be begging for tutoring." Phil rolled his eyes dismissively, blissfully unaware of Dan’s racing skills.   
The two boys settled onto a giant beanbag infront of the xbox and began their battle. It was two hours before Phil was called down to pay the delivery man. True to his word, Phil had won by a mile. Dan had pretended to be mad, and told him that he had let him win, but the truth was, Dan hadn't played xbox for a long time. He and Andrew shared a console but it was kept in Andrew's room and his brother wasn’t a big sharer. The only time Andrew had relinquished ownership of their xbox was during one of Dan’s worst depressive episodes. He had shuffled into his brothers room cautiously and announced that he was going to set up the xbox for them to both play. On the days that Dan had struggled to do so much as brush his teeth, Andrew would come into his room and they would sit in silence for hours on end as they battled through game after game. 

Phil paid for their pizzas and headed back upstairs to where Dan was waiting for him. As he walked into his bedroom, he caught Dan examining his fringe in the mirror and laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re still v attractive, much sexy,” Phil chuckled as Dan blushed.  
They continued to play Halo whilst eating their pizza, but on reflection, this had been a bad idea as the controllers were now slippery with grease. "I'm just going to wash my hands," Phil told Dan, nodding towards the door. "I won't be a minute. Switch over to Mario Kart while I’m gone?"

"Hurry up Phil!" Dan shouted after only two minutes had passed. He was already becoming agitated by the title menu of Mario Kart playing that annoying, bouncy tune on repeat. Suddenly, Phil jumped out from behind the door frame causing Dan to choke on a pizza crust he had stolen from Phil’s abandoned plate in fright. He spluttered and coughed, still laughing as Phil patted him on the back forcefully, apologising. "I didn't mean that quick!" Dan yelled with a croak. Phil snorted in amusement and sat down to choose his character.  
   
Dan smiled at Phil adoringly as the boy frowned at the TV screen with concentration. Phil explained that as much as he loved Yoshi, he preferred Waluigi’s dungarees, though he couldn’t choose Waluigi because he was evil, so perhaps he could go for Peach, but what if her dress caught in the motorbike wheels? Dan was aware that he was staring, but he couldn't help it; Phil radiated warmth and beauty like Dan had never seen before. As he tore his eyes away from Phil’s face, something else caught his eye. Phil hadn't rolled his sleeves down after washing his hands, and the cuffs of his sweatshirt ended mid-forearm. Poking from beneath them were angry red scars; bright, shiny stripes, old white shadows and large patches of pink. 

Dan’s heart dropped. He knew exactly what these were; hell, he’d had a rough patch a couple of years back with self-harm, but he’d gotten through it, and he knew that Phil could too if only he had the support and encouragement he needed. Dan internally debated the pros and cons of acknowledging the damage; he feared that Phil would be embarrassed, ashamed or defensive, and that it would negatively affect their friendship. After just a moments consideration, Dan decided that he had to say something; he would rather take the risk than ignore his friend’s struggles. He wanted Phil to know that he supported him unconditionally, no matter what. For all Dan knew, he could actually be the first person to notice, therefore the only person aware of Phil’s predicament. He took a deep breath and started to speak before he could change his mind. "Phil?"   
"Uh-huh?" Phil answered, flicking through the menu screen of their game, trying to choose the level. Dan cleared his throat and Phil turned to him with an uncertain smile, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.  
"Are you…you know…" Dan nodded down at Phil’s bare arms. Phil's eyes widened in horror, realising what Dan was referring to. Dan’s eyebrows knitted with concern as he considered how to continue. “Are you…hurting yourself?”   
"W-what? No! Of-of c-course not," Phil stammered, panicking, pulling at his sleeves until they covered his arms and hands.   
Dan raised his eyebrows and tried again. "Okay, so the truth?"


End file.
